What She Needs
by Fibre Optic
Summary: Anders was an idiot. He was selfish and thoughtless and borderline irredeemable. But sometimes, he was just what Dawn needed.


_There really isn't enough Dawn/Anders friendship fic. They're an interesting pair and I'm always intrigued by their relationship. So I wrote them a thing. I hope you enjoy my first contribution to the fandom! :) _

* * *

* * *

Dawn wouldn't say that Anders was a bad person.

It would be very easy to, without a doubt. It probably wouldn't be entirely untrue to say he was either, if she was being honest.

Anders was careless, but he wasn't cruel. He was an idiot, but could be wildly intelligent when he wanted to be. There were moments when, through a veil of arrogance, Anders would display something almost like kindness.

This was one of those moments.

"It's not the end of the world, Dawnie."

Dawn glowered, but remained silent. It was easy to ignore him when he was lying on the the couch, staring at the ceiling and talking in her general direction rather than fully engaging her.

He _was_ trying to help, in his own way. She understood that. The thing was, Anders' way of helping was to keep poking her until her facade of calm annoyance shattered and revealed what was truly bothering her.

"Granted, you haven't told me what actually is bothering you so I have no way of knowing - it's not actually the end of the world is it?"

"No," she bit out, pointedly shuffling some files and stacking them to the side of her desk. "It's not the end of the world."

He sat up, planting his feet on the carpet and folding his arms loosely in his lap, fixing her with a curious stare. "Then why the moping, Dawnie-Dawn?"

It wasn't moping. Dawn was not moping; Dawn did not___mope__. _

The truth was, there was no reason for her sadness. Nothing particularly bad or awful had occurred. Her family were all okay, and her job was plodding along at the same pace it always had.

The idea that she had simply woken up this morning feeling sad and mournful was not a valid reason for contaminating the office atmosphere with her dreariness, and so she couldn't give him an answer.

Unfortunately that did not stop him looking for one.

"Did your cat die?"

"I don't___have_ -"

"I'll buy you a new one. There are plenty more cats in the sea."

Dawn paused, narrowing her eyes and shaking her head. "As...___sweet_ as that is, I really don't want a cat."

Anders didn't answer, which she counted as a first in all the time she had known him. It was almost disconcerting.

The silence between them was familiar and comfortable, and after a short while of trawling through e-mails without interruption Dawn guessed that he had probably fallen asleep sitting up. It wouldn't be the first time.

She was halfway through composing a group e-mail informing their clients of new offers and developments within the business when she heard a shuffle from across the office.

Without looking up she said, "I'll get lunch when I finish this."

"Don't bother, I need to get some air," he replied, weaving through the gap between her desk and the wall.

He had disappeared out the door before Dawn could fully register this dramatic change in her boss's usual behaviour. She twisted in her chair, looking over her shoulder at the door and frowning.

* * *

* * *

It was midday when he arrived back, evidently having made a stop by his apartment to change clothes.

In place of his earlier snappy suit and tie, he wore a zipped-up light grey hoodie, dark tracksuit bottoms and a pair of well-worn sneakers. It kind of suited him.

In the crook of one arm he held a brown paper bag, while a packet of crisps were held between his teeth.

He kicked the door shut behind him and arrived beside her desk in a refreshing breeze of fresh air and aftershave.

"What are you doing?" Dawn asked suspiciously, eyeing the bag as he placed it precariously on the edge of her desk, opening his mouth and catching the packet that dropped from it in the same movement.

"Lunch," he said, looking at her like it should have been obvious. "Why, did you have other plans?"

"Well, yes. Work, for one," she said, flustered. "Do you know how many e-mails we get in a single day from potential clients? I haven't even _checked_ the fax machine."

"You make a compelling argument," Anders said as he began to unload cakes from the brown bag.

He held out a chocolate eclair wrapped loosely in cellophane, raising an eyebrow when she didn't immediately take it from him. "I didn't poison it," he sighed, shaking it insistently at her.

"Thanks," Dawn said, taking it from him cautiously.

He shrugged, ambling over to the couch and throwing himself onto it, holding his own cake up in the air to save it from his bouncy landing.

He patted the spot beside him, eyeing Dawn as she slowly approached. She perched on the edge of the couch next to him, feeling distinctly uneasy.

Anders did not do things if he did not benefit from them in some way, and that was not Dawn being cynical. It was just being realistic.

For a short while they ate in relative silence, Anders kicking his feet up onto the coffee table and Dawn slowly relaxing her tensed up muscles.

"So," he said finally, turning to look at her. "What's up?"

"Nothing."

It was the truth, if not in its entirety. There really was nothing wrong, she just felt really shit about it.

Anders groaned, throwing his head back and swallowing. "Dawn, come on. If you can't tell me, who can you tell? Just consider me your secret keeper. The spider to your puppet."

Dawn frowned. "What?"

"You know, like the movie, Pinocchio."

"Jiminy was a _cricket_, not a spider."

"Whatever." He shrugged a shoulder and gave her an uncharacteristically serious look. "Did Ty do something?"

"No!" Dawn said quickly, dipping her head to hide the sudden flush in her cheeks. "No, nothing to do with Ty. Nothing to do with anyone."

"Then what is it? You're usually quite a happy thing, Dawn. Annoyingly so, in fact. What's at you?"

He was persistent, and Dawn knew she wasn't going to get out of this without giving him an answer.

"I'm just not having a good day," she admitted. "That's it. _Really_."

He narrowed his eyes at her, staring into her eyes like he could see right through her. Dawn looked away uncomfortably, taking another bite of her cake and leaning back into the couch.

"Take the rest of the day off," Anders said abruptly. "Actually, wait, no. Don't. Stay in and skive with me. We'll do it together, have a play day, make sandcastles out of stationary."

Dawn frowned, trying to catch up with his random darting train of thought. "I can't leave those e-mails another day," she said, shaking her head. "I'll hate myself even more tomorrow if I do."

"We'll cross that path when we come to it," Anders replied, waving a hand as though her career _wasn't_ the single most stressful thing in the goddamn world. "Let them wait, it makes us look busier which just makes us more desirable."

That was some Grade A bullshit.

All the same, Dawn really didn't feel up to arguing the point any further. She wanted to take him up on his offer, take just one day without feeling overwhelmed with guilt.

Easier said than done, of course. Tomorrow she would regret it if she let her work slide today. She would wonder why on earth she'd ever thought this was a good idea._ Still..._

"Yeah, okay."

Anders looked pleasantly surprised, eyes brightening as he sat up straighter. "That's the spirit!"

"Why are you being like this?" Dawn asked, looking at him curiously. "You're usually so...___you_."

"Is it such a far-fetched notion that I might care about my employees, Dawn?"

"It's quite far-fetched to imagine you caring about anyone, Anders."

He scoffed and leaned sideways, falling gently against her and resting his head on her shoulder. Dawn glanced down at him and he blinked.

"I care about you Dawn," he said, not sounding entirely sincere. "In my own, special way."

Dawn smiled, rolling her eyes but unable to fight the little surge of affection she felt for him then.

Anders was an idiot. He was selfish and thoughtless and borderline irredeemable.

But sometimes, he was just what she needed, too.


End file.
